


The Language of Flowers

by MistysGatorTeeth



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, British Slang, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/F, Language of Flowers, No Ghosts - AU, Not Canon Compliant, Shorts, one-offs, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistysGatorTeeth/pseuds/MistysGatorTeeth
Summary: A collection of short drabbles based of the different meanings of flowers.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	The Language of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Bellis perennis (Daisy): New Beginnings.

Jamie doesn’t read people the best. People, finicky bastards, are just too much emotion laced behind their actions for her to be able to label and sort them properly. She’d much rather shut herself away behind the panes of the greenhouse walls; as she did when Flora and Miles had come milling about, spilling soil on their shoes and leaving her workbench in shambles behind them as they happily informed her of a new au pair coming from the city this afternoon. New people, new problems. She’d learned that the minute Rebecca had stepped foot on the manor grounds. Then the girl had off and disappeared with Peter  _ fucking  _ Quint. At least they were both out of her hair. 

So Jamie doesn’t mean the new nanny for a long moment. She tends to her flowers, and she waters the hedges. She meets  _ Dani  _ at dinner, over a shared meal of warm soup and toasted bread. Dani’s all purple turtlenecks and toothy smiles. She stutters over her words too much, and her accent is absolutely American to the core. She wears her honey blonde hair in colorful scrunchies. Jamie pretends she doesn’t stare at her. 

“I’ve never been able to keep a plant alive,” Dani says, looking over the climbing hydrangeas that trail up the side of Jamie’s greenhouse. Her fingers brushing oh so gently against the soft petals of each bloom she can reach. Jamie sprays the hose against the stone path, unable to tell the au pair to step back so she can water them. 

“Plants can be difficult.” Jamie lies. She hasn’t ever told a soul that. A plant is a plant. You just need to know their ticks.  _ They probably don’t like you,  _ she’d have said to anyone else. But seeing Dani stand with her hands on her hips as she admires the flowers in the hot afternoon sun rays, Jamie doubts anyone could dislike Dani. “Right amount of sun, the right amount of water. They’ll be bashy.” 

Dani comes to the greenhouse to hide from the kids. She busies them with some activity - pawns them off on Hannah, sometimes. Hannah loved them dearly, takes great a deal to spend time with the little bastards. She smells flowers and she tries on Jamie’s too-big gardening gloves. She doesn’t like getting dirty. Her jeans get prints on the back from sitting on Jamie’s table as the gardener sets up arrangements to place around the manor. 

_ “For me?” Dani asks as she’s handed a vase filled with daisies and babies breath. The white petals tickling her nose as she sniffs them, Jamie’s hand pushing them into her hold.  _

_ Jamie’s turn to blush. “If you fancy them, yeah.”  _

_ “I fancy you.” Dani replies.  _

Jamie isn’t the biggest fan of people, but she thinks Dani can be a bit of an exception to that rule. 


End file.
